


Blood on Your Hands

by skywarpie



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Ancient Roman AU, Animal Death, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Gladiator AU, Humanformers, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, uh probably tw for sickness and starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-23 17:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20343784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywarpie/pseuds/skywarpie
Summary: Elita One had everything she could have ever wanted. A wife, a village, and peace. But when Iacon attacks, felling the colonies around her and she watches her village sub-come to the violence, she's forced into action. That is until she loses her wife and is taken captive by Iacon themself. From there she vows vengeance and heads will roll.





	Blood on Your Hands

Elita wakes up as she does every morning. The sound of chanting crowds and injured gladiators filling her ears. The stench of the cells under the coliseum enough to make any person gag. 

She reluctantly pulls herself from the small cot she calls her bed. It isn't very comfortable but it's the best she has and she's learned to make do with what she's given. A bucket of water sits in the far left corner of the cell. She uses this to wash her face and then take a long gulp. It's less water than she's ever had but there's no telling when or if more will even be provided for her.

A shout and a struggle catch her ear. She turns her gaze toward the sight unfolding before her. 

A lone individual has his hands bound together with rope, his feet digging into the cobblestone beneath him for any available purchase as he pleads. "Please -- I have a family! I'm no gladiator. I can barely defend my own livestock!" 

His words fall on deaf ears as he is pulled along and down another corridor. Elita scoffs. She remembers when she was first brought here. This man seemed to have the better end of the deal. She had raged, killed two guards in the process before she was tossed in what would become _her_ cell. From there she had punched the bricks until her knuckles were busted and bloodied and the wall had a nice indention to it. After that things were fuzzy. She remembers exhaustion over taking her.

The same was bound to happen to this poor fool. However, judging by his appearance and attitude he wasn't going to last long. 

She hisses under her breath as she makes her way back to her bed. It's almost hard to tell how long she's been here. _Almost_. But each day without Pyra Magna at her side is like a dagger wedging itself between her ribcage. It forces her to keep trace of the days and months. It's almost been a year. A year without her wife by her side and her village decimated. Her people slain like livestock and left to rot in the hot sun. 

If she closes her eyes she can almost see it. Carcer, her home. The lush green grass and the overall happiness of her people. She had been their ruler and protector. A pathetic one now. Not even able to save her ownself from this living hell.

* * *

* * *

_They meet as most courtships do. Political alliance. The Mistress of Flame comes from the nearby colony of Caminus. With her she brings Pyra Magna. A woman built for war and Elita is struck instantly. This woman is like her. Strong, large, and happy to throw her weight around to get what she wants. Elita One is smitten instantly._

_She makes the effort to make this trip one the company will never forget. Of course she tries to impress each visiting colony, but this time Elita wants to make an impression. What she would give to have Pyra Magna turn her gaze in her direction. Even if it's just a scowl. Elita would be happy with that. _

_In the time the company is here, Elita makes the effort to show them all her village has accomplished. They've managed to rig an irrigation system to their crops, allowing them to grow year round. The Mistress of Flame seems intrigued in this but all Elita can see is Pyra Magna._

_It takes time but ultimately Pyra Magna eventually opens up to her. And after that the pair of them are inseparable. They end up spending hours on end together, each enjoying the others company. _

_Elita makes sure to ask The Mistress of Flame first. She wants her approval of the marriage before she places the offer on the table. That and it will keep her on the Mistress's good side. It takes less than an hour for the Mistress to approve. She's well aware that Elita can offer a good life to Pyra. It would also raise Pyra's status. She would be a consort to a queen. Something that Elita makes sure to express that she too will have equal rule over the village. _

_Within a month the pair are married in a three day long celebration. Each night has feasts larger than Pyra Magna has ever seen. And all the village is invited to partake in them. This is something she adores about Elita, always making the effort to allow even the lowest in the caste system to partake in event. And on the last night in the privacy of their bedroom Elita tells her she has made negotiations with the Mistress to allow her sisters to live here as well. Pyra Magna is struck beyond words. She's unable to express her love for this woman and so she settles for the only thing she knows will truly show her gratitude. Their bodies come together as one and by the end of the night they both fall asleep in the other's arms, not rising before noon the next day._

_For a year things are great. Their village flourishes. Everyone is healthy and happy, and they both make a direct effort to be good queens. And then Iacon sinks its teeth into the land._

_ Arcee bursts into their shared study. "Caminus has fallen." She doesn't stop until she is in front of the desk they are both sitting at. _

_Elita One looks up at the head of her guard with wide eyes, before a voice rouses her from her stupor. "The Mistress of Flame?" Her gaze turns to Pyra at her left._

_Arcee's eyes shift between the pair of them before lowering them to the floor. "Gone. The whole village is gone, my liege."_

_"No Survivors?" Elita isn't believing what she's hearing. _

_"Those who did survive will soon wish themselves dead." Arcee brings her eyes to meet Elita head on. "Taken into slavery by the bastards. Most will be forced to fight in the pit, others..." Her voice trails off and the implication behind it is all too real. _

_Elita One's blood begins to boil with rage and she jolts up, knocking her chair backward in the process. "Double down on guards making rounds. No one goes out or comes in without an escort. If anything out of the ordinary is noted make it known to me immediately." _

_Arcee nods._

_"And those that managed to escape Caminus with their lives will be granted asylum here." She flexes her fist. "You are dismissed."_

_"My liege." Arcee nods to the both of them before turning on her heal and exiting. Elita waits till she is outside the room before letting out an enraged scream and knocking the supplies off the desk._

_Within months all the villages around Carcer have fallen. Iacon ransacking them and either destroying or stealing everything in sight. This bodes ill for them. Because with these colonies Carcer trades, getting things they need and items they can not grow. Almost within weeks their food supply dwindles and come three months all of it is depleted. Men, women, and children all starve to death. And if things aren't already bad enough, sickness sits in. One by one Pyra Magna watches her sisters die from one or both of these. Elita sees the toll this takes on her wife but she is unable to provide much comfort, she is also trying to deal with her people and keep them calm. At least that is until Pyra Magna herself gets sick._

_ For weeks she sits by her wife's side, praying to any gods that are listening to spare her. In this time her village deteriorates to nothing. Those who don't die pack what little things they have and leave. Others stay. Elita worries for them but her main priority is Pyra Magna. _

_"Promise me." Pyra is cut off by a ragged cough, blood spattering her hand. _

_"Hush." Elita tries to make her lie back down. _

_"No. Promise me you won't let them take you captive." _

_Elita stares at her. "You aren't going to die. Everything will be --"_

_"Don't say fine. Because it's not and you know it. I **am** dying and when I'm gone I don't want the same happening to you. Promise me you won't let them take you. That you'll fight with all you have. Just promise me that."_

_She stares at Pyra Magna. A life without her was something she never considered and she's entirely unsure if she will even survive the ordeal. "I promise." She answers quietly, crawling into bed to rest against her wife._

_In mere hours her wife is dead and Elita lies there numb. Outside a small portion of Iacon's forces have advanced and they set fire to the town. Those that remain rush from their homes and are slaughtered instantly. Then as if they were never there, they disappear back into the shadows, waiting to return and see what is left to claim. _

_After wrapping Pyra in linens, she carries her outside, the light of the fires casting a sickening glow about her. There's no way Elita can bury her wife. There are no supplies left and it would be too time consuming. Sadly she settles for building a pyre. The place is already on fire, what better of a fitting way to honor her? _

_Elita watches as the flames engulf Pyra Magna's body and the harsh reality hits home. She won't be able to take the bones and place them in a crypt. She won't be able to place the needed animal sacrifices around her. Her wife will go into the afterlife with nothing, granting her no passage into the underworld. Elita **screams**. It echoes and travels. She keeps this up until her throat is raw and she is crumpled in the dirt, covered in soot and tears. She doesn't remember much after that, everything goes black and she wakes up in a cage being pulled by horses. _

_It could have been days for all she knows. She scrubs at her eyes, trying to clear them but no -- they are traveling through a dessert. A glance at the soldiers trailing along and behind the cart makes her stomach sink. Iacon. It's then she also notes she's not alone. Other people and animals occupy other cages in the long line the company is traveling in._

* * *

* * *

The roar of the crowd echoes, vibrating through her body and into her bones. Her blood pumps, not from anxiety but from exhilaration. She hates this but Elita can't deny that there is something all too satisfying about jumping into a ring and fighting someone until their blood coats her hands. As she finally stops in the center of the arena she looks around, absorbing all around her. The crowd, just like always, is pumped and screaming, ready for the latest blood bath.

A quick scan of the area proves what she already knows. She isn't fighting someone today but rather _something_. As if on cue, several soldiers wheel in three large iron cages. Inside each one a large lion paces. Two lionesses and one male. _Great_. 

Elita rolls her shoulders. She has only two weapons. One dagger and a short sword. Deadly in the hands of the right person. She cracks her neck and fingers. _Showtime_. She un-sheaths her sword and raises it in the air, arms outstretched. The crowd grows louder. 

The cats are released from their cages and immediately begin to circle around, eyeing Elita as their next meal. She doesn't move. This is a trick she has learned through watching others. Those who tried to flee or fight the beasts head on were slaughtered in seconds. Instead she stands her ground, gripping the hilt of her sword and separating her feet to rest firmly on the ground.

The crowd above grows deathly silent as they await the next move. Elita breathes in deeply, closing her eyes for half a second, before exhaling and reopening her eyes. _Relax_.

A roar sounds up as one of the lionesses charges forward. Elita side steps, the beast missing her by mere inches. It growls deep in it's throat. The other lioness comes in from the side, but Elita swipes her arm and strikes the creature across the haunches. The wound isn't enough to kill but it's enough to slow it down. 

Seemingly reinventing their plan on que, the pair split, one on each side. The first lioness rushes forward and Elita twists to strike at it but taking her eyes off the second proves to be a mistake. The beast lunges, slicing her chest with its claws and sinking its teeth into her shoulder blade. Elita screams. She tosses her sword to the side and settles for her dagger. She fights with the beast, trying to pry it off until she has her blade. The lion only bites harder and seeing her chance, Elita drives the dagger into the eye socket of the animal. It yowls and thrashes for a moment more before letting go and collapsing to the ground dead. 

_One down. Two to go_.

She stands breathing heavily. Thankful it wasn't her dominate arm. The wound will heal but keeping it clean and free of infection will be the main issue. 

The male is the next to attack but she's ready. Elita grabs her sword and as the beast lunges she ducks so when he lands he comes down fully on the blade, being impaled. A twitch and that one too is finished. With force she yanks her sword free, blood dripping from the silver and painting the dirt and sand below a deep red. 

The last lion pounces and pins her to the ground. Gaping jaws with massive teeth snap inches from her face. Her sword is positioned in front, proving the only barrier between the two of them. The cat weighs half as much as her and its added weight and force prove challenging but she manages to twist the blade, sharp end angling out and she drives it up, embedding it in the animal's neck. Blood pours into her face. It coats her eyes and the metallic taste settles in her mouth.

Elita lays there for a moment. The crowd is murmuring amongst themselves, thinking her dead most likely. Finally she shoves the beast off her, tossing it to the side like nothing as she struggles to her feet. She sways, her sword embedded in the dirt proving to be her only support.

The crowd erupts in shouts of joy. The best entertainment they've had in years no doubt. She looks up and around at all the faces cheering for her. She should feel happy. But how can she feel such when three massive animals are dead because of her. Animals she didn't know existed until she arrived in this hell. Instead she feels sorrow. They gave their lives for nothing. They are like her, pawns in a game. She decides she will use one of the pelts as cloak. At least one of them won't have died for nothing.

Now fully on her feet Elita looks up in the balcony she knows is occupied by the current Prime and his two sons. She glares daggers as Alpha Trion stares down at her. The moment she's been waiting for has arrived.

"Iacon!" She out stretches her arms as she yells, eyeing the crowd and addressing them. "For too long you have been trapped under the heel of a tyrant. A Prime that wants nothing but what you can give him. He cares not if you starve to death! How many of your children or wives have died of hunger!? How many of your mothers or fathers have died from poverty? And how many of your husbands have died in unneeded wars?!"

Her answer is dead silence until several murmurs arise.

She takes this as a lead to continue. "They care nothing for you! What kind of Prime sits in his palace and enjoys the fine dishes of far off lands while his people die in the streets? In my village a ruler was only as good as their people."

A sudden eruption of agreement arises. 

"I've lost two children!" One woman shouts. 

"And I a sister!" Another adds.

The cries grow louder and Elita turns to look upward at the men she's challenging. Already she can see Sentinel twitching with growing rage. Good. She's hit her mark. "I ask you," she turns back to the crowd, "what kind of leader do you want? One would willingly strides into the battle field or one who tucks tail like a cur and runs back to the safety of _his_ home." She pauses for effect. "I challenge Alpha Trion to duel in the arena!" The shouts that arise are deafening. 

Alpha Trion as since risen from his seat, glancing about himself frantically. It's true. He has never fought in a war himself, always sending his soldiers instead. But he refuses to let this woman show him up. "Silence!" He holds his hands up, commanding absolute quiet. "I accept."

Elita's face breaks into an awful sneer. So long she's waited for this and now, now she will finally have it. "Let's raise the stakes, what say you!?" The arena echoes with approval from the crowd. "Winner takes Iacon. Loser.." She shrugs. "Dies choking on his own blood in the dirt." 

Alpha Trion is not enjoying these stakes, but he agrees nonetheless as he finally makes his way into the arena, his weapon of choice being a spear.

Pathetic. She doubts he even knows how to throw it. 

They take their stances, pacing about one another. The air is deadly silent. Then Alpha Trion strikes. He launches his spear but the throw is miscalculated and Elita doesn't even need to move to dodge it. Elita knows this fight won't last long so why reserve her energy. She launches herself forward, dagger striking her opponent across the chest. He staggers back but when she advances again, Alpha Trion throws a punch with more force than Elita thought him capable of. It sends her reeling back and falling into the dirt. She rubs at her abused jaw. "You have more fight than it appears."

In the time she has spent on the ground,Alpha Trion has already retrieved his spear and strikes. It lands its mark this time, sinking into Elita's calf, effectively spearing her to the ground below. She screams and once more he is atop her, using his fists as weapons, beating her mercilessly. A gasp echoes throughout the stadium, many thinking the warrior they've watched so many times is finally losing her battle. But Elita knows better. And she can take a punch. The old man is growing tired quickly and she decides to make her move.

She comes to life once more, arms wrapping around the Prime's neck and tightening until he is thrashing and clawing at her arms. But she's stronger and in a matter of minutes she tosses his lifeless corpse to the side. Above Sentinel shouts and she knows what's about to happen, she has to act fast. She yanks the spear from her calf with force and brings herself to a mere crouch before tossing the spear with all her strength.

It hits its mark. It sails and embeds itself in Sentinel's shoulder, nailing him to the wall. One would not think it a deadly wound, but the spear head has struck his neck in the process and he bleeds out faster than guards and healers can rush forward. 

Finally Elita stands, the crowd erupts. "Prime Elita! Prime Elita!" Encircles her and she can't help the small smile that graces her lips. She glances up and sees the last surviving son of Alpha Trion, Orion Pax. Her grin widens. She will make an example of him. Perhaps not kill him, but she will strip him of everything in life he's ever known and he will finally feel the hell she has been living since Iacon took her home.


End file.
